kiss me on the mouth and set me free
sing me like a choir
sing me like a choir
Such a public space does not daunt the petite woman. Already she has had Wessex and Loren both attending to her body where any wandering eyes could see. Here, with Frey wrapped around her, intoxicating and otherworldly, why would she care to hide? Neither of them have any need for shame.
If it is anticipation Frey seeks, they string it from Hotaru's nerves like a master harpist, plucking each chord until her skin trembles and resonates in eager expectancy. Hanging on the thin edge of a knife, hips tilting into that teasing touch. Trying to tempt, to beg by way of body for Frey to take what is so freely offered.
As the tip of one finger slides between her folds, she is given what she asks for. Despite the inexperienced edge to each touch that trails along her skin, it is all-consuming. Her head drops back, leaning into the powerful figure behind her as she moans shamelessly into the crisp air, clouds gathering like a lover's kiss against her lips. Turning her head she blindly noses for Frey's neck or the soft lobe of an ear, teeth hungering to bite and tease as the nails of the hand around the god's wrist scrape lightly up their forearm. Restless and shuddering like an ill-contained storm in human skin beneath Frey's touch.
If it is anticipation Frey seeks, they string it from Hotaru's nerves like a master harpist, plucking each chord until her skin trembles and resonates in eager expectancy. Hanging on the thin edge of a knife, hips tilting into that teasing touch. Trying to tempt, to beg by way of body for Frey to take what is so freely offered.
As the tip of one finger slides between her folds, she is given what she asks for. Despite the inexperienced edge to each touch that trails along her skin, it is all-consuming. Her head drops back, leaning into the powerful figure behind her as she moans shamelessly into the crisp air, clouds gathering like a lover's kiss against her lips. Turning her head she blindly noses for Frey's neck or the soft lobe of an ear, teeth hungering to bite and tease as the nails of the hand around the god's wrist scrape lightly up their forearm. Restless and shuddering like an ill-contained storm in human skin beneath Frey's touch.
i could be the subject of your dreams
your sickening desire
your sickening desire
